


A Promotion

by dme_does_marvel



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Artist Steve Rogers, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Steve Rogers is Not a Virgin, Tattoos, steve rogers in the streets captain america in the sheets, there's a little plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-03-09 21:36:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18925456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dme_does_marvel/pseuds/dme_does_marvel





	1. Chapter 1

Steve Rogers needed a personal assistant. Mr. Stark had informed me yesterday that I would be taking the position. I’d absentmindedly rubbed my upper arm where my watercolor tattoo of Captain America’s shield was, doubting very much that this was a good idea. Stark must have an ulterior motive.

“I don’t think that’s appropriate. I work in PR, Mr. Stark.”

“Yeah. He could use some. Maybe a column in US Weekly calling all eligible women to audition to be his girlfriend. There’s no way he’s been laid in the last few months. He’s tense.”

“I mean, this is a demotion. I’m not interested.”

“Darla—dear—you don’t have a choice.” My lips formed a tight line as Tony kicked his feet up at his desk, typing away at something on his tablet and not looking at me any longer.

“Mr. Stark—”

“Shoosh. I’m sciencing.” Infuriated, I stalked out of the office. I took the elevator straight to HR and pounded on Maria Hill’s door.

“Come in,” she called. When I flung the door open, she held up a finger while she finished off a call.

“Of course. Of course. I understand.” She hung up the phone and I let loose on her.

“Why in god’s name have I been demoted to Steve Rogers’ personal assistant? I’m the assistant public relations officer for the green energy division of Stark Industries. Steve Rogers should have an intern to do coffee runs for him. Not me.”

“He said you were pretty pissed,” she said with a grin, getting to her feet.

“Who said what now?” She walked me to the door of her office.

“Tony. He just called to warn me you would be barging into my office. What’s so bad about being Captain Rogers’ personal assistant? That’s how your aunt started and now she’s CEO.”

“Can we not bring up the rampant nepotism? I’ve only just convinced everybody in my department that I work here because I’m good at my job, not because my aunt is the CEO and my uncle’s name is on the building.” Maria smiled and tried to shut the door on me.

“It’s Tony’s decision and it’s out of my hands. And I think your job will be a little more important than doing coffee runs, Darla.”

\---

 

So today is my first day. I was instructed to meet Captain Rogers in the courtyard outside the gym at 0800 when he’d be done with his workout. Some of my anger has ebbed but I’m still trying to be defiant. I could have dug around and figured out what Captain Rogers took in his coffee, but I didn’t. I just showed up empty-handed. Maybe he’ll fire me on the spot and I can go back to my real job.

“Captain Rogers,” I call when I see him come out of the gym, a bag slung over his shoulder. He looks freshly showered and he smells like soap when I approach.

“Can I help you?”

I extend my hand. “Darla Turner.” 

Cap grasps my hand briefly. “Nice to meet you. What can I do for you?”

“Well…” I fold my arms, giving the handsome Captain a careful look to confirm my suspicion. “Mr. Stark appointed me your personal assistant…and I’m guessing this is the first you’re hearing of it.” I give him a wry smile.

“Stark did what?” He inclines his head and places his hands on his hips.

“He actually transferred me from my position in the green energy division, so maybe you can just talk to him and explain that you don’t need an assistant and this was a big misunderstanding and I can get back to doing my job.” Steve Rogers runs his hand through his hair while I talk and then looks at me closely. 

“Yeah, I can do that. It’s just...” He looks at something in the distance.

“What?”

“I really could use an assistant.” My heart sinks. 

“Oh. Well, that changes things.” I hope I haven’t ruined my first impression with my new boss.

“Walk with me,” Rogers says, leading the way. My heels click loudly on the pavement as I follow him through the parking lot, straining to keep up with his long strides while limited by my slim skirt.

“You might want to wear something more practical tomorrow.”

“With respect, Captain, these are $2,000 Jimmy Choos. I’m going to wear them to my grave.” Steve scoffs and shoots me a sideways glance.

“I will never understand fashion,” he says dismissively.

“It’s actually nice to wear high heels again after being deployed.”

Steve stops in his tracks and his eyes rake me up and down, making me feel slightly uncomfortable and warm.

“I was a first lieutenant in the Army and did a tour in Kuwait after graduating top of my class at West Point,” I say with a slight attitude.

“Lieutenant, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed—”

I stand a little straighter. “Where are you parked?” He indicates the blue Jeep Wrangler in front of us and I clamber in once he unlocks the doors.

Steve drives us from the gym parking lot toward to the downtown office building. We hit a red light in front of a Starbucks and I ruefully remember my new title.

“How do you take your coffee? I should be learning these things if I’m going to be your assistant.” 

“That’s not exactly the kind of assistant I need,” he says. “But black.”

“I think you missed a turn,” I say, watching us pass the street the parking structure for the office is on.

“I’m not going into the office today. I need your help with something else.”

Steve doesn’t elaborate, just drives us to some luxury lofts and swipes a parking pass at the gate.

“Natasha was trying to help me to, you know, have a life outside of work,” he explains as the doorman lets us in the building. “I’m trying to humor her, but I’m not sure I’m good at this kind of thing.” 

We get in the elevator and Steve presses the button for the top floor. 

“What kind of thing?” I press, not sure at all where this is going. We get off the elevator and Steve opens the door to his apartment for me. 

“Lieutenant Turner—”

“Darla, please, Captain.”

“Darla.” My name in his voice makes my stomach do a backflip. “Have you ever modeled before?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Natasha got me into taking art classes. And I have homework.” Steve gestures to some paper and pencils laid out on an art desk. “I have to draw hands. Natasha was supposed to sit for me but she’s overseas…” He drifts off and I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. Hands? I could model hands. He’d had me nervous for a second.

“No problem, Captain.”

He brings out a stool for me to sit on, right on the other side of his desk. I take my seat and slap both palms onto the desk. Steve laughs a little. 

“May I look at them?” He gently cradles each of my hands in turn, turning them over and inspecting the scuffs and old scars. His own calloused hands are warm and I shiver as his fingers glide over the tendons in my wrist. He positions my left hand carefully on the desk and shines a lamp for the perfect lighting.

“So just sit like this? That’s all you need me to do?”

Steve doesn’t look at me, only at my hand. “Can you remove your ring?”

“Sure.” I twist off the amethyst ring and put my hand back right where I thought it was. He corrects the pose, then sits down at the desk and begins sketching. The silence soon gets to me.

“Would it be too distracting to talk?”

“Hmm?”

“Would it bother you if we talked? It would help keep me from falling asleep and ruining your drawing.”

“Oh, sure. We can talk.” But Steve doesn’t say anything. I shake my head and jump in.

“Strong and silent type, are we? Or just concentrating really hard?”

He looks up at me. “A little of both, I suppose. This sounded like a great idea when you walked up, since I’d just been wondering who I could ask to sit for me with Nat gone. But now I’m starting to think it’s weird and I might be creeping you out.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine. I’d rather do this than pick up your dry cleaning, believe me.”

“About that. So Stark said I needed an assistant? I don’t know where he heard that from.”

“Maybe Agent Romanov told him before she left?”

“I doubt it. But I do really appreciate you helping me out with this. When I’m done, I’ll tell Tony you can go back to your real job.” 

“Thanks.” I sit for another few minutes before my curiosity gets the better of me. “Why hands?”

“This class is a form class with the human body as inspiration. We did faces, feet, now hands. Next is arms, legs, and then I think we have a model coming in for a full comp.”  
I nod and Cap continues. “I’m pretty much done if you need to head out. I can fix the shadows later.”

“Are you sure? I can stay.”

“Unless…” He watches my face carefully.

“Unless what?” I ask.

“Unless you want to sit for arms?” He stares at me and I can’t look away from his impossibly blue eyes. I feel too warm again. I gesture to my blazer with my free hand.

“I suppose you need to see bare arms?”

“Only if you want to. I can find someone else. It’s not a problem.” Remembering the gentle way he inspected my hands, I make up my mind.

“No, I’ll do it.” Steve’s face brightens and turns to a clean page in his sketchbook. 

“Great. Can I get you some water? Or we can jump right in if you’re ready.” I stand up, stretch, and then flex my hand. I unbutton my jacket and shrug it off.

“I’m fine, but thanks. Do you need to see my shoulders? I have a camisole on underneath my dress shirt—” I turn to look at him but his furrowed brow startles me. “What?” I say in a panic, until I follow his gaze to my left shoulder, where just the bottom third of a red, white, and blue shield is inked on my skin.

“Oh, fuck,” I breathe.

“Is that—?”

I push my sleeve up the rest of the way and stare at the wall. “Yes, it’s a tattoo of your shield. I forgot all about it. This is so awkward.”

But Steve looks more intrigued than anything. He comes around the desk and reaches out. I offer my arm to him and he runs his fingertips over my musculature, making my shiver. 

“It’s beautiful,” he says softly. He tilts his head at me. “This is a tattoo?”

“Yeah. A watercolor one. My artist is pretty good at that style.” 

“It’s amazing. I’ve never seen anything like this on skin.” He’s so close to me, I start to breathe faster. Up close, he’s even more imposing with his thick arms and broad shoulders. And he’s so tall, even with me in my heels. I watch his chest rise and fall and it’s obvious I’m not the only one experiencing an increased heartrate.

“Do you have any tattoos?” I ask quietly, not wanting to break the spell. 

“I do. But nothing like this.” I wait to see if he’ll elaborate.

“Can I see?” Steve backs away from me and pulls his shirt over his head. He has a bit of peach fuzz on his chest that darkens as it heads south to his navel. His skin is smooth everywhere and I wonder if the serum that gave him this incredible physique keeps scars from forming. He has a few lines of script on his right ribcage and angles himself so I can see.

“It’s an Irish proverb. Written in Gaelic.” I reach out hesitantly but then pull my hand back.

“Very nice. It hurts on the ribs, doesn’t it?” Without waiting for him to ask, I unbutton my short-sleeve blouse and set it next to the lamp. I flip the hem of my camisole up to show off my watercolor eagle. Steve leans down to admire it.

“Wow. I almost got an eagle. I love this watercolor technique. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Much more like paint than ink, really.” He turns and points between his shoulder blades at a thin black cross. “This is only other one I have.”

“Simple. I like that.” Steve turns back to face me and doesn’t make any move to put his shirt back on. I can’t help but notice his eyes keep flitting down to my flat stomach. “I have a simple one too,” I say.

I really hope I’m not crossing a line here, since technically Steve is my boss and all, but I take off my camisole tank top and let it drop off my fingers. Standing there in my skirt and bra, I pull the padded cups down a couple inches to show him the hourglass tattooed between my breasts—where I would have cleavage if I were so endowed. Steve steps very close to me and I turn my head to the side so he can see, but look up at him. 

“Why an hourglass?” he nearly whispers.

“We never know how much time we have. It’s a reminder to live in the moment.” Steve tears his eyes away from my chest and searches my face. I part my lips with my tongue to wet them slowly and the next thing I know Steve’s pressing his lips to mine. I throw my arms around his neck and kiss him back. He puts his hands on my ribs and lifts, maybe unconsciously, so my toes are barely touching the ground. Our mouths lock and we work our tongues together. I pull out of the kiss slightly to draw a breath, but Steve hesitates when I go back in.

“I—” he begins, eyes growing wider as he pulls back from me. He sets me down gently, making sure I gain my footing on the spindly heels. I glide my hands from around his neck to his shoulders, then to his biceps and forearms. I give him a quick squeeze and let my hands drop, disappointed. I’m self-conscious about being half naked now, and I cross and uncross my arms, chewing on my lip. I try to come up with a joke to ease the tension that is quickly filling in the space between us, but my mind is blank.

Steve is flushed and still breathing heavy. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. You’re just—I can’t—” He closes his eyes and inhales deeply, then blinks them open. “I just couldn’t stop thinking about all the things I want to do to you and I kind of lost control.”

My head snaps up. “What?”


	2. Chapter 2

Steve runs a hand through his hair looking a little uncomfortable. “The serum enhanced everything…libido included. And usually if I have a stunning woman topless in my apartment, I don’t have to try to rein it in.” He looks at me with an apologetic smile.

I stand straighter, smiling at his compliment, getting all of my confidence back and then some. I lock eyes with him and snake my hand behind my back to unclasp my bra.

“Come on, now, Captain. I wasn’t topless.” I shimmy out of the bra straps and put my bare breasts on full display. “But I am now.”

Steve bites into his lip and groans, his chest heaving, a slightly pained expression on his face. His fingers twitch but he keeps his hands at his sides. I lazily draw circles around my nipple with the nail on my middle finger and lick my lips dramatically. 

“Let go,” I whisper, stepping forward. “Don’t rein it in.”

Steve growls and closes the distance between us, this time holding a hand at the nape of my neck and mashing his mouth onto mine. He deftly plays with my hard nipples with the other hand, making me whine. He slips his tongue out of my mouth and drops down so he can nuzzle his face into my chest, taking one nipple between his teeth and then the other, teasing me. I moan and put my fingers in his hair, holding the back of his head to keep my knees from buckling.

Steve slides his hands up my stockinged legs and under my skirt, pausing against the tightness of the fabric, which was regrettably not made to stretch. He pulls back and looks at me, his blue eyes dark and half-lidded. 

“Take it off,” he implores. I undo the zipper and pull my skirt off, my hip bones protruding a little from my slight frame. Steve stands and undoes his own pants, shucking them and his boxers and letting loose his erection.

Unsurprisingly, he’s big. I feel a rush of anticipation and wariness as I appreciate it.

“My, my, Captain.” I mumble while I hurriedly pull my stockings off. I stumble a bit but Steve grabs me in his arms to steady me. I tug my foot out of the stocking quickly and my skin sears where it’s touching his.

“You’re beautiful.” Steve whispers and plants a few kisses on my neck. I grind myself against him in response.

“And I’m going to wreck you,” he breathes, his voice hitching. 

His hot breath on my ear sends shivers down my spine before he bites down onto my shoulder and I cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure.

“Steve!” I gasp as he puts both hands under my ass and lifts me up. He carries me into the bedroom and lowers me onto the bed, hovering over me, hands planted on either side of my shoulders to support himself.

He kisses me deeply and with passion, then pulls back to search my face. “You said no reins, right?” 

I smile, glad he’s checking in, but I could not be a more willing participant.

“Full speed ahead, Captain.” I expect him to come back in for another kiss, but he backs away and buries his face between my legs, his strong arms winding their way around my thighs and pulling them open even further. 

“God, you’re wet,” he murmurs into my thigh, trailing chaste kisses on my tender skin. 

“I can’t help it. Look at you.” I crane my neck to look at his blonde hair and unbelievably broad shoulders, his muscles bulging everywhere. He looks up at me and we make eye contact as he starts kissing closer to my center.

“Look at you,” he says, then dips his hot tongue into my swollen pussy, making me spasm. “You like that?” he teases and does it again.

“Yes. Oh God, yes.” Steve laps at my opening and makes me squirm. I feel him shifting around and then there’s a slight pressure as one of his long fingers glides into me. His lips move to suckle my clit and I squeeze my eyes shut and gasp.

Steve pushes and pulls his finger in and out of me, beginning a slow build of tension. I raise my hips up to ask for more friction, biting down on my bottom lip and opening my eyes just a sliver. He’s looking up at me with dark eyes. 

He lifts his mouth from me, but keeps slowly fingering me. “You want more?”

“Yes. Yes, Steve,” I say huskily. 

And then it’s two fingers sliding in an out of my depths. The increase in pressure feels amazing and I pinch my own nipples and let out a whine. Steve smiles.

“That’s a good girl. I want you to come for me.” He ducks his head back down to add his tongue back into the mix and work me up even further. 

His fingers curl and his tongue circles my clit and my muscles start to tighten and go haywire. The heat builds and I grab a fistful of his hair to hold his face between my legs as my orgasm begins. I rake my fingers across my chest and then twist one of my aching nipples as I come, crying out and moaning. 

Steve slows his ministrations as I come down, a sheen of sweat covering my body. I release his hair and go limp. 

"That was..." I begin.

"Just the beginning."


End file.
